It's Not Just Where You Make Your Bed
by immafishcracker
Summary: "Hey!" A large hand suddenly wrapped around Yuri's arm and swung him around. He came face to face with a tall, dark-haired teenager. "What the hell do you want?" All Yurio wants is to get home after staying late to practice alone (something that may or may not be against the rules). As it turns out, walking home alone in the dark is against the rules for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

Yuri swiped at his running nose as he left the ice skating rink. He swore loudly, just because no one was around to tell him not to, and hitched his duffle bag higher on his shoulder. Saint Petersburg was cold at night, especially so late in the winter.

He stepped off the curb and crossed the empty street. Walking across the city to get to his apartment didn't sound remotely appealing, but the busses had stopped running hours ago and Yuri didn't have much of a choice. He couldn't even call anyone to pick him up because he wasn't even supposed to still be here. Skating alone late at night was against the rules. Even for the Olympic skaters.

"Pace yourself or you'll break yourself," Katsuki had said earlier, chirping his annoying opinion from across the rink, "that's what my mom always says."

Yuri had scowled and continued skating anyways. He hadn't won any gold medals by "pacing himself" and wasn't going to start trying. He didn't have time to follow the rules and take a break. He needed to be better and he needed it _fast_.

While Yuri couldn't say he regretted staying at the rink longer, he definitely couldn't deny that it would be nice to be in his warm apartment. He was cold, and his entire body _ached_ with exhaustion.

"Hey lady! Give us a smile!"

If he could just be in a warm shower right now. Then he could curl up in bed with his cat and finally just go to sleep.

"C'mon, don't ignore us!"

Maybe he could heat up some ramen and actually have something to eat before midnight. Yuri checked his phone. _Dammit_. It was eleven forty-five. He would need to hurry if he wanted to even get to his street before twelve.

"Hey!"

A large hand suddenly wrapped around Yuri's arm and swung him around, knocking his phone out of his hand. He came face to face with a tall, dark-haired teenager- someone Yuri might have gone to school with if he weren't privately tutored.

"What the hell do you want?"

The teen dropped Yuri's arm and recoiled violently, "Wait a minute, you're not a lady!" His voice was slurred and Yuri could smell alcohol on his breath.

"No shit, Sherlock," Yuri growled. He turned around sharply, only to run into another boy. This one was closer to Yuri's height, but still twice as thick. A cigarette hung from his lips.

"Why's your hair so long, lady-boy?" He taunted, reaching out to run a strand of Yuri's hair through his rough fingers. Yuri had to suppress a shiver.

"Looks better than your mop," he hissed, sounding a lot braver than he felt.

Two hands grabbed his shoulders from behind, and he was shoved into the boy with the cigarette. The guy's coat _reeked_ of smoke and booze. Yuri jumped away quickly, but not before the taller boy managed to pry his duffle bag away from him.

"You got anything valuable in here?"

Yuri made a grab for the bag, but he held it out of reach. There _were_ valuable things in there. Not only was his wallet in the side pocket, but his skates were expensive enough to pay Dedushka's rent for half a year.

"Give it back!"

He laughed, " _Make me_."

No one could claim Yuri didn't have one hell of a right-hook. The crack of the boy's nose breaking echoed through the empty street. He screamed and dropped the bag to clap a hand over his face. Yuri dove for it.

Yuri was a better fighter than his slim frame would suggest, but he didn't stand a chance against two older boys. He curled around his duffel bag protectively as blows rained down on him from either side. A steel-toed boot made contact with his hip, and he yelped in pain.

 _He was going to die._

 _These two drunk kids were going to kill him._

He pressed his eyes closed as the boys tore off his jacket. Fists pounded at his body, and before he knew it, he was being thrown across the sidewalk. Snow bit into his bare arms and the hard stone pavement dug into his back.

Footsteps.

Yelling.

More footsteps.

Silence.

Yuri cracked an eye open. He was alone. Footprints and an ugly splatter of blood were the only signs that the older two boys had ever been there. He turned on his side, and worked his arm underneath him to try and sit up, but his entire body screamed in sudden pain. Bile filled his throat and he threw up onto the icy road.

Involuntary tears filled his eyes, burning white hot against his numb cheeks.

 _He was being stupid._

 _He needed to stop being a crybaby and just get up._

Pure willpower forced Yuri upright and fire filled his chest, wedging between his ribs like a knife. A second puddle of vomit quickly joined the first.

 _He was going to freeze to death on this stupid street corner._

Yuri wiped at his mouth with a trembling arm. God, could he get any more pathetic? All he wanted was to be safe at home in his apartment, but he wasn't stupid enough to think he could drag himself all the way there in this state. As much as he hated to admit it, he really needed some help.

A faint light suddenly shone through the dark, accompanied by a soft ping. Yuri's phone was lying miraculously untouched in the snow, his Instagram notifications displayed clearly underneath the time.

Yuri dove for the device, a mortifying yelp of pain escaping his lips, and in seconds he had it unlocked and open to the phone pad. He didn't realize what his fingers were doing before Viktor's number was typed in and he couldn't even stop his thumb from jamming itself into the green call button.

The dial tone played.

 _Dammit Yuri, what are you doing?_

A silent second passed.

 _It's past midnight, why are you calling_ him _of all people?_

A second dial tone.

 _He's not going to pick up anyways_.

Half a second, then-

"Yurio? It's a past your bedtime isn't it? Little kids shouldn't be up this late."

Yuri didn't think he'd ever be so relieved to hear the stupid geezer's condescending voice and that stupid damn nickname. His throat closed off as more tears streamed down his face. He had been _jumped_. How the hell was he going to admit to _Viktor_ he had been jumped?

"Yurio? Are you there?"

"Vik… Viktor," Yuri's voice cracked halfway through the name and he mentally kicked himself for sounding so pathetic. So much for pretending everything was fine.

"Are you alright?" Viktor's voice rose in concern, and Yuri hissed out a swear, "Yurio what's going on?"

"I need you to pick me up."

"Why? Are you hurt? It's late, you should be at home. Does Yakov know you're out?"

"Are you going to pick me up or not?" Yuri growled, growing impatient. His head was throbbing and his hands were shaking so hard he could barely keep a grip on his phone, "Just tell me so I can call someone else."

"Of course I am," Viktor sounded offended Yuri would even ask, "where are you?"

Yuri's heart skipped a beat. He froze as his head tried to catch up with the words on the phone. Viktor was really going to come pick him up? At this hour?

"Yuri, where are you?"

The shocking use of his actual name numbed Yuri's pain for a moment, and he realized that he had no idea where he was. He had to be somewhere between the rink and his apartment. Looking around dizzily, he couldn't make out any recognizable landmarks.

"Uhh, give me a second." He staggered to his feet, leaning heavily against the building behind him.

"Viktor? What's going on?" Yuri could hear Katsuki's dumb voice from across the line.

"I don't know."

Yuri finally caught sight of something familiar, "I'm across the street from that cafe… the one you can walk to from the rink."

"Alright. We'll be there in a minute."

 _We'll be there._ Of course he was bringing his stupid fiance with him. He couldn't just come pick Yuri up and drop him off at his apartment. He _had_ to make a big deal out of it.

"Hurry up, geezer. I don't have all night," Yuri hissed, then hung up the phone. The resulting silence almost made him wish he hadn't. Almost.

He wiped at his face, trying to dry off the tears. Yuri knew he was an ugly crier, and he sure as hell didn't want either of the damn lovebirds seeing him bawl like a baby. His sleeve was rough against his skin, and his fingers each felt like they had swollen to twice their size.

Maybe he could just hide his face with his hair and avoid all questioning. Would they believe he'd been at a party or something? Probably not. Viktor didn't know how to mind his own fucking business, and while Yuuri could usually be subdued with a fierce glare, it was getting harder and harder to intimidate the older man. For some reason he had decided that the younger Yuri was _cute_.

Not cute. Yuri was a badass. He didn't need to be treated like a child. He could take care of himself. Katsuki just wasn't getting the memo.

"Oh my god, Yurio!"

Speak of the devil and he shall come.

"Oh god, oh my god," there was a slam of a car door, and the other Yuuri's face was suddenly bobbing in Yuri's field of vision, "You're hurt, oh my god, there's blood."

Yuri remembered warm blood gushing from the tall guy's nose, dripping all over his fist and splattering to the ground. "It's not mine," he mumbled, trying to swat the older skater away. It didn't work. Before he knew it, Yuuri's blue coat was draped over his shoulders. His body heat still clung to the fabric.

"Does he need a doctor?" Viktor's face was sheet white as he climbed from the driver's seat, "Should we take him to the hospital?"

"If I wanted to go to the hospital then I would have called an ambulance, idiot." Going to the hospital meant probation from the ice, it meant Yakov would call Dedushka, it meant everyone was going to yell at him for being stupid enough to try and walk home in the dark.

"Can you get in the car?"

Yuri scowled, "Of course I can get in the damn car, I'm fine." His words were much less convincing when he tried to step away from the wall and his leg collapsed out from under him.

Yuuri grabbed his shoulders to steady him, "Careful, Yurio!"

 _Two hands grabbed his shoulders from behind and shoved._

Yuri pulled away, "I'm fine!"

"What are you even doing out this late?" Viktor asked. His expression was cold and serious for once. Yuri winced, and kept his eyes firmly trained on the ground.

There was a pause, then… "Oh my god, you were at the rink weren't you?" Of course Katsuki would be the one to figure it out.

Viktor's gaze snapped down to Yuri's duffle bag on the ground, then back to Yuri. He looked _livid_. "You were practicing alone? _Yurio!_ You know how dangerous that is!"

Yuri's eyes started to sting again. He wished he could just melt into the pavement and disappear. It was taking all his willpower not to just burst into tears in front of his two idols.

"What if you fell on the ice and no one was there to help you? Have you been practicing this whole time? You were supposed to go home _hours_ ago! You can't improve your skating if you're destroying your body to do it!"

Yuri was starting to cry again, and he let his hair fall in front of his face to hide it. He was horrified to realize that he had gotten vomit in the ends. He didn't think he'd ever been so humiliated in his life.

"Viktor, that's enough." Yuuri's voice was hardly louder than the rumble of the car, but Viktor immediately stopped yelling. He reached down to pick Yuri's duffle bag, then propped himself against the injured boy's side, "Let's take him home."

Viktor frowned, but didn't argue. He climbed back into the driver's seat as his fiance helped Yuri into the back. To Yuri's surprise, Yuuri didn't join Viktor up front, but planted himself in the seat next to him.

"Are you alright? Can you tell me where it hurts?"

Yuri just shook his head, not trusting his voice. Tears stung against his cold cheeks, but he didn't dare try to wipe them away while Yuuri was watching. Instead he clutched Yuuri's coat tighter around him and shivered.

Yuuri reached out to brush Yuri's hair out of his face.

 _Why's your hair so long, lady-boy?_

Yuri flinched sharply and Yuuri froze, his hand still hanging inches away from Yuri's face. He hesitated, then reached out again. This time Yuri didn't flinch, but he tensed as Yuuri's gentle fingers brushed over a particularly painful part of his forehead.

"Oh, Yura…"

Yuri looked away. He couldn't stand seeing the pity behind those stupid glasses, it was easier to glare out the window. He watched as Viktor made a turn in the opposite direction of Yuri's street.

"Where are you going? My apartment's that way."

Viktor adjusted the rear-view window to fix Yuri with a level stare, "We're not going to your apartment."

"What?"

"You're hurt. We're not going to leave you alone."

Yuuri turned to him and smiled, like he was actually helping, and said, "You can stay with us for tonight."

All the air in the car vanished. Yuri couldn't breathe. "No," he said, but instead of a demand, it came out breathless and small, "I want to go home."

Suddenly all the little tears were turning into bigger tears and Yuri was gasping for air. Viktor and Yuuri looked just as horrified as Yuri felt. He buried his face in his hands, but didn't miss the 'what do we do?' look Viktor was giving his fiance.

"Shhh, it's okay. It'll be alright." Yuuri's arms were suddenly wrapped around Yuri's shoulders, and he was pulling him close.

Yuri's sobs grew louder. He was covered in blood, vomit, and dried sweat. His own mother wouldn't touch him in such a state (wouldn't touch him in any state), and yet this stupid skater was only holding him tighter.

The car came to a stop outside Yuuri and Viktor's building, but none of them moved to get out. None of them moved at all. Yuri, who ran at the threat of an embrace, let himself be coddled by Yuuri as Viktor watched them with a stupid dopey look on his face.

It wasn't until Yuri finally regained control of his breathing that Yuuri spoke. "Do you want us to stay at your place tonight? Viktor and I could get some things then stay over if you want?"

Yuri thought about his messy apartment. He didn't think there would even be a place for them to sleep. He thought about Viktor and Yuuri leaving in the middle of the night to pick him up, and immediately offering him a place to stay in their home. He thought about them debating whether or not to call a doctor. He thought about Viktor yelling at him for doing something dangerous, despite having broken the same rules dozens of times himself.

He shook his head, "It's okay, I'll stay here."

"Are you sure?"

Yuri nodded. He wiped at his face with his sleeve, then winced as he realized he was doing so on Yuuri's jacket.

"Let's go inside and get you cleaned up then," Viktor opened his door, and a rush of cold air flooded the car, "we can talk in the morning."

Somehow even the threat of punishment for skating after hours couldn't shake him from the sleepy lull Yuri had worked himself into, and he let himself be led inside.

He wasn't going home like he wanted to, but in the end, maybe he was.

* * *

 **Notes:** Yuri's pretty shaken up, but don't worry, he'll be back to his old self after a good nights sleep!

I haven't actually seen Yuri! On Ice in a while, but I recently remembered just how much I love Yurio and had to write something. I might add a second part if you guys like it.

Title is from Gabrielle Aplin's "Home".

Reviews would be great.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes:** Your home is not just where you lay your bed, your family is not just who shares your blood. Yuri is slowly learning this.

Two months later and I'm adding another chapter to this haha.

I didn't like this one as much as the last one, but I think you'll enjoy it.

* * *

Healthy relationships weren't really something Yuri was used to. Successful marriages were hard to come by, sometimes it seemed like divorce settlements were almost more common than weddings. No one close to him was in a happy relationship.

Dedushka's wife had been dead for longer than Yuri could remember. She was nothing more than a smiling face from a picture on his grandfather's mantlepiece. He didn't think Yakov and Lilia were ever actually married. Viktor said they were at some point, but Yuri wasn't sure he believed him. It seemed like they'd been divorced since the beginning of time.

His own parents were a can of worms that he didn't dare try to open.

Yuri had to go all the way to Japan to find any happy couples. Even then, the Katsudon's parents were old enough to die, and his friends at the ice rink were still young enough to get divorced. Not very happy thoughts, but it wasn't like Yuri could stop himself from thinking them. It had gotten to the point that he wasn't sure if it was possible to be in love for more than a few years at most. Young couples were a time bomb waiting to go off. Old couples were only still together because neither of them had died and it would be too much trouble to split up.

Yuri Plisetski didn't believe in marriage. He'd never been given any reason to. So waking up on Viktor and Yuuri's sofa was like waking up in a whole different world. Everything about the apartment _screamed_ 'married couple', and the two weren't even married yet.

The whiteboard on the wall was covered with scribbled love notes in several different colors and languages. A vase of fresh flowers was centered on the dining table. Framed pictures of Yuri, Viktor, and their friends were boldly displayed on every open surface. Yuri was mortified to see himself in a few of them.

Since when did he let them take _pictures_ with him?

Yuri tried to pull himself into a sitting position, but his ribs screamed in protest. He was painfully reminded why he was in this ridiculous apartment in the first place.

He'd bawled his eyes out in front of Viktor. In front of _Yuuri_. He'd gotten snot all over Katsudon's jacket, and let them comfort him like a _child_. This was more than embarrassing. He might as well leave the country now. Maybe Otebeck would let him visit Kazakhstan. Hell, maybe he'd move to America. At least he knew the language.

"Yurio, you're awake!"

Yuri was so focused on trying to figure out which country he'd move to, he didn't notice the person he was trying to move away _from_ entering the room. Viktor spun extravagantly from the kitchen and into the living room, Makkachin following closely. The dog jumped up on the couch to lick Yuri's face and sent a jolt of pain up his leg and into his hips.

"Get off me, dog!"

Makkachin barked cheerfully and curled up between Yuri's legs. His weight wasn't helping the bruises that had formed overnight, and Yuri was starting to wish he'd let Yuuri put ice on them as he'd offered to.

"We can eat breakfast now you're up! Yuuri's making pancakes for all of us!"

Yuri slowly sat up, trying to ignore the throbbing in his hips and ribs, and brushed his hair wildly out of his face, "What time is it?"

"Six?" Viktor phrased it like a question and Yuri pointedly glared out the window. Sunlight streamed through the blinds. It was clearly much later than six o' clock. "Give or take a few hours? Oh don't look at me like that, did you really think we were going to let you go to practice like this?"

Yuri glared. He didn't have time to skive off practice. If he did, then he wouldn't have been walking home so late in the first place.

"Oh, that's a scary face," Viktor's grin only widened, "you should eat something. Then maybe you'd be less grouchy."

"Viktor, don't start a fight so early in the morning. He had a rough night." Yuuri emerged from the kitchen, balancing a plate of the fluffiest _blini_ Yuri had ever seen, "What do you like on your pancakes, Yurio? We have whipped cream and chocolate sauce. We might even have some strawberries left."

"I don't care, whatever." He just needed things to go back to normal. They weren't allowed to treat him like he was fragile or something.

Yuuri smiled, and set the plate on the table, "Okay then, I'll get them all out. Do you think you can stand up, or do you want to eat on the couch?"

"I'm not an invalid, I can walk." Yuri swung his legs over the edge of the couch, knocking Makkachin back into the cushions, and forcing himself upright. His legs were shaking, and it felt like someone was hammering nails between his legs and hips, but it was worth a little pain to keep what was left of his damaged pride.

The pancakes were good. They would have been better if Yuuri and Viktor would stop sending each other weird looks, but Yuri could admit that the food was alright. Probably had something to do with the fact that he'd never gotten to eat dinner last night.

He got through two pancakes and was reaching for another when Yuuri set his fork down delicately and let his hands drop into his lap, "So, Yurio… do you want to talk about what happened last night?"

Yuri stabbed at his third pancake with a violent ferocity, "No."

"Yurio-"

"Will you _stop_ calling me that?"

Viktor raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Would you rather we call Yakov so you could have this conversation with him instead?"

 _Hell_ no. Yakov would go absolutely nuts.

"It's not even that big of a deal," Yuri growled, keeping his eyes firmly glued to his plate, "I just got out late and got in a fight with some guys I ran into on my way home."

"Not a big deal? You could hardly get in the car!"

"It looked worse last night. I'm fine now."

"Why are you trying to downplay this? We know you're not okay, just tell us what happened!"

"Why do you even care? It's not like I'm your kid!"

Viktor and Yuuri fell silent, and for moment Yuri thought he'd won. But then Katsuki just had to open his big fat mouth and look at him with those stupid teddy-bear eyes.

"You're our friend, Yuri. Of course we're worried about you."

Nope, they were _not_ doing this again. Yuri had had enough tears and mushy moments to last the rest of the year at least. He shook his head, letting his hair fall into it's usual place in front of his eyes. It was still tangled and nasty. He needed a shower.

"I want to go home." Why the hell did his voice sound so _brittle_? Yuri cleared his throat and tried again, "To change clothes and stuff."

Viktor stood, his chair sliding back with a loud scraping sound, "Okay then. Finish your breakfast and I'll take you in my car."

"I'll come with you." Yuuri stood with his fiance.

Yuri rolled his eyes but didn't complain. The sooner he could get out of this weird place, the better. Before long they'd try and pull him into their picture-perfect family. He was lucky Viktor hadn't pulled out any adoption papers yet.

"Where's my bag?" Yuri shoved his plate away, his appetite suddenly gone.

"I put it by the door. Here, let me go grab it for you."

"I can get it."

"Oh no, I insist."

The car ride back to Yuri's apartment was uneventful. Yuri stared out the window at passing traffic. Viktor and Yuuri talked about domestic stuff like shopping lists and did disgusting things like hold hands over the console.

Viktor hadn't even finished parking the car before Yuri was jumping out onto the pavement. The movement was jarring to his sore hips, but the sooner he got out of lovey la-la land, the better.

In through the open door, staggaring up the narrow staircase, Yuri stopped outside his door. He grabbed at his leg before remembering that he was still wearing his leggings, not his pocketed jeans. Rifling through his duffle bag was similarly unfruitful.

Keys.

Keys.

 _Where were his damn keys?_

"Looking for these?"

Yuri's face felt like it was on fire as Viktor dangled the house keys over his head and in front of his face. _Dammit_ , he must have dropped them in the car. He reached up for them, but Viktor pulled away with a mischevious smile.

"Let's see what little Yurio's apartment looks like."

The apartment was a mess. Not an organized mess, it was well and truly an honest to goodness mess. Yuri was still a teenager, so he didn't feel the least bit guilty about not taking care of his apartment, but that didn't mean he wanted anyone _else_ to see it.

"Viktor!" Katsuki had finally caught up, "You can't just invite yourself in!"

Thank god for Japanese manners.

"We're not just going to leave him here alone! He's hurt!"

No, Viktor was _not_ allowed to use the puppy-dog pout. Everyone knew Yuuri was useless against it. He looked desperately from Yuri to Viktor, and Yuri had never seen a more conflicted man in his life. It looked like he was about to spontaneously combust.

Yuri rolled his eyes with a sigh, " _Fine_. You can come in!"

"Really! Thanks Yurio!" Viktor unlocked the door and strode inside like he owned the place, "Wow, it's pretty messy in here."

Messy might have been a bit of an understatement. Dirty clothes were strewn all across the floor and hanging off the back of the couch. Empty cups and food wrappers cluttered the counter. The couch was covered in various broken items Yuri hadn't gotten around to replace.

At least it didn't smell bad. Yuri hated the smell of an empty house, and his apartment remained empty most the day while he was at practice. He'd quickly learned that burning scented candles fixed that problem.

"Do you live by yourself, Yurio?" Yuuri asked. He frowned and looked around, taking in the small space with a furrowed brow.

Yuri dropped his bag on the floor and kicked it behind the couch. _Ow_ , maybe that hadn't been such a great idea. "Yeah. It's not like I can drive up from Moscow every day."

"Yakov bought this place for him two years ago. I knew about it, but haven't been in here since he first got it." Viktor hummed as he walked over to inspect Yuri's wall of posters, "Oh, I haven't seen this one in a while. Which tour was this from?"

"Two-thousand four," both Yuri's replied in unison.

"Oh look, Yuuri! There are ones of you too!"

Yuri could feel his ears burning. Out of the dozens of skaters he had plastered to that wall, Viktor just _had_ to find himself and Yuuri right away.

"Huh, I didn't think they still made these."

They didn't. But there was no way Yuri was admitting how long he'd had that poster.

"I'm going to go shower. Don't go poking into anything." He stomped off, head still steaming with embarrassment. He picked up a pile of hopefully clean clothes from his bedroom and slammed the bathroom door behind him. Just because he could.

Taking off his clothes revealed the real extent of his bruises. They covered his entire right side, the deep purple and blue hues stark against his pale skin. Trying to skate would have been a nightmare.

The hot water felt amazing against his sore body, though. Yuri didn't waste any time lathering his hair in as much shampoo as he wanted. He couldn't get the remaining dirt and vomit out of his long, blonde strands fast enough.

If he just stood there under the showerhead, he could pretend that everything was normal. He wasn't hurt. He hadn't just spent the night with the two lovebirds. They weren't hovering in his living room, waiting to fuss over him as soon as he got out. It was just a normal day.

A loud crash from the other room broke Yuri's concentration.

" _What the hell was that?_ " He shouted as loud as he could.

Viktor's response wasn't audible through the walls and over the spray of water. He thought he heard Yuuri says something, but couldn't be sure.

Yuri turned off the shower and listened carefully. Everything had gone quiet again. He groaned and stepped out of the tub. If those two had broken something…

He dried his hair as quickly as he could and pulled it into a messy ponytail, then pulled on a pair of sweats and a loose-fitting T-shirt. A cloud of steam flooded the hallway as he opened the bathroom door. He could hear Yuuri and Viktor whispering from the other room. It sounded like they were in the kitchen.

"Be careful! This isn't our stuff!"

"Look, nothing's broken. It's fine!"

"Sixteen-year-olds like their personal space, Viktor."

" _I_ didn't have my own apartment when I was sixteen. I lived with Yakov and Lilia."

"Did you _want_ to live by yourself?"

Yuri heard the familiar sound of the fridge door opening. Why the hell were they looking in there? He specifically told them not to go poking around. It wasn't like he had much in there. He hadn't been shopping in ages, and all that was left was some leftover ramen and the nasty protein shakes Lilia made him drink.

"We should invite him to dinner more often. It's lonely in here."

"Of course, darling."

Lonely? His apartment wasn't lonely. It was a sanctuary from all the stupidity of the world. And if it was a little lonely, then Yuri liked it that way. Better than having these idiots around.

Sure, maybe the candles were to make the place smell lived in. Maybe he left his clothes everywhere to make it seem less empty. Maybe Dedushka's letters were left open on his nightstand and his friends' posters were taped to the wall. But he wasn't trying to make the place seem less _lonely_.

Maybe…

Yuri coughed to try and force down the lump that had formed in his throat. Viktor and Yuuri both looked up at the sound.

"Yurio, you're out! Are you feeling better?" Stupid Yuuri asking stupid questions.

"What are you doing in my kitchen?"

Viktor smiled innocently, shutting the fridge door, "We were just looking around. It's so empty in here! Are you eating enough, Yuri?"

"Today's shopping day. Why are you poking around my house?"

"It's shopping day? Perfect! We can go on a shopping trip together!"

Okay, maybe Viktor was the stupid one.

Yuuri frowned, "I guess a shopping trip could be fun. Unless you're not feeling up to walking around that much, Yurio."

"What?" Yuri spluttered. These two couldn't just plan to go shopping for him.

"We could carry him in the basket!"

"I think he's a little tall for that, Viktor."

Yuri stared at the two, completely dumbfounded. It seemed like he wasn't going to get any choice in the matter. The whole idea was mortifying… and maybe a tiny bit appealing. Yuri hadn't gone with anyone to the store since he lived with his grandfather. It might be… a little fun? He could at least mooch some cash off the two.

Viktor was practically jumping with excitement, Yuuri was laughing at his fiance's antics, and maybe… just maybe… the apartment felt just a little less empty.

Yuri had to fight to keep the grin off his face.

* * *

 **Notes:** Again, I haven't actually seen Yuuri on Ice in a while, so I don't remember if they mentioned Yuri's living situation. I liked the idea of him having a little apartment on his own.

I also like the headcanon that Yuri's family is low-key abusive (minus his adorable grandfather). I mean, he has a lot of anger in him, even for a teenager. And the whole 'eyes of a soldier' thing. Yeah, his home life probably isn't great. But he makes his skating friends his family. If that even makes sense.

Reviews would be appreciated! I'm nice, I swear (:


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